


like you do

by collieflower



Series: sweet chaos [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Kuroo Tetsurou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, And They Were Heat Partners, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Established Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi, Internalized Homophobia, Intimacy, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Intimacy, O H YEAH, Omega Bokuto Koutarou, Omega Sawamura Daichi, Pining, Porn With Plot, Pre - Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi, heat partners, this is kind of a lot more chill than traditional heat fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27036178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collieflower/pseuds/collieflower
Summary: Kuroo and Daichi were good together. They loved and supported each other, and they made a great team. Bokuto’s brain just liked to put him through the ringer — especially when he was nearing his heat. Which, now that he thought about it, was coming up pretty quick.Oh, duh.Hormonal. He was just hormonal. Yeah, that totally made sense.tldr: daichi volunteers to help bokuto through his heat. bokuto isn't sure that that's good for his heart
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi, Bokuto Koutarou/Sawamura Daichi, Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Series: sweet chaos [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895473
Comments: 16
Kudos: 171





	like you do

**Author's Note:**

> lemme tell u that i was almost ready to finish this, just three scenes left to finish off, i learned that i cannot type with long acrylics :)  
> deadlines + nails don't mix, at least not for me.  
> anyway, hope u like >:)
> 
> any questions u have, i will be glad to answer !  
> i do have to say tho. they're in a pack of six atm! kuroo, bo, kenma, suga, daichi n akaashi! setters and their captains, istfg man

Yeah, yeah yeah, the whole troublesome thing probably… _started,_ or something, when Daichi cornered him in the cute little cafe. Bokuto just figured that it was something of a recurring theme. Honestly though, leave it to them to start everything off in a friendly fit of banter.

“You never bring home dates anymore, Bo.” Kuroo leaned against the refrigerator with his hands tucked into his pockets. He had just come home from class. If Bokuto really looked at him, he could see where he probably leaned against his palm, making it stick up and flatten in even weirder places than his normal rooster comb. “Bit of a dry spell?”

“I’m doing just fine!” Bokuto groused, brandishing the dirty wooden spoon towards him like a sword. His form was great, he could have made a great pirate. His first act would have been to make Kuroo walk off the boat. A noble first act, he thought. He could probably benefit from a good soak in cold water.

Kuroo scoffed and dared to near him, though he was scared off quickly enough when Bokuto threatened his nice shirt with a sauce stain.

He’d already been in the middle of making dinner when Daichi got home. He had a spare key, and their apartment was closer to campus than his. And he was _hungry._ He thought that he might as well drop in and have dinner with some of his pack. It was a _sweet gesture._ Akaashi even seemed to approve, when he was on the phone with him earlier.

“I just can’t take _anyone_ around you guys,” he went on, “because anyone I bring over _instantly_ falls in love with Suga.” The air left him as quick as he’d sucked it in. “Imagine what a blow that is. You bring home a date, and all they see is an angel sitting on your sofa. I can’t even blame them.” He pouted as he went back to stirring.

Daichi laughed, looking up from his textbooks spread out around the table. “It’s a curse, I promise you. He had confessions all the time when we were in school. He’s just got that sort of face.”

“Soft and lovely? With the beauty mole of elegance?”

“And the air of mystery that would almost certainly land you in trouble,” Daichi finished off. He tossed a pen in the spine of his book and shut it there. “He’s not so angelic in the early hours, with the stresses of exams on his shoulders.”

Bokuto sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Maybe _I_ should date Suga.”

“He’d make you pay for dinners,” Daichi warned him.

Bokuto shrugged. “I pay for plenty of dinners. Traditionalism isn’t everything nowadays. Or did you not know that, _Mr. I mated my high school sweetheart_ _?”_ His hands were propped up on his hips, chest puffed out as his tone oscillated.

Daichi laughed as he pulled down a few glasses from the cabinet. “I’m not jealous of having to navigate the dating pool,” he admitted.

Bokuto huffed a laugh, tasting the sauce with a little lick of the spoon.

“All thanks to me, of course.” Kuroo threw an arm over Daichi’s shoulders, tugging him in close so he could press a kiss to his temple. They were sweet. Bokuto almost couldn’t _look_ at them. Like he’d get a toothache if he’d kept watching. So he watched the pot, and the red bubbles breaking the surface. Kuroo made a little sound, and he knew he’d been caught. “You good, bro?” he asked. When Bokuto looked at him, he was staring, his eyebrow quirked up.

He nodded. “Think I burnt it.” He slid the pot to a cold burner and twisted the stove off. “Gonna pee, watch that.” He slid by them in the narrow space of the kitchen and took off in the direction of the bathroom. As soon as he got out of sight, he clamped his hand over his neck and winced.

Just before he closed the bathroom door, he heard Daichi’s confused voice telling Kuroo that the food tasted fine.

He stayed in the bathroom until he got over himself, trying to think through his problem and remind himself that this isn’t new. This had been going on since high school, and there really wasn’t much sense in getting upset again. And again. And, yanno, maybe again.

Kuroo and Daichi were good together. They loved and supported each other, and they made a great team. They were great packmates. Kuroo was a great pack Alpha. Bokuto’s brain just liked to put him through the ringer — especially when he was nearing his heat. Which was soon.

_Oh, duh._

Hormonal. He was just hormonal. Yeah, that totally made sense.

He washed his hands and neck before joining them again. They probably just didn’t notice the wet spot on his shirt collar.

-

Bokuto’s heats were notoriously bad. He rarely took partners, because they usually just got freaked out at how bad his cramps got, and how undeniably _unsexy_ the whole thing was when compared to the average alpha/beta expectations of a heat.

It was something of a vicious cycle.

His heats were bad, so he didn’t take partners. Because he didn’t take partners, his heats were borderline unbearable. But on the bright side, it was just two weeks out of his entire year. To Bokuto, that was bearable. If he just shouldered through it, everything would be fine.

He’d probably benefit from suppressing a few heats, especially during game season, but his cycle had been regular since high school. Some omegas even older than him still couldn’t get their cycles on track after suppressants. It just didn’t seem worth it.

To his packmates, his cycle was something of a horror. They knew how hard they were on him, and really did their best to chip in. After his heat broke, like clockwork, Kuroo, Suga and Akaashi showed up at his doorstep. Akaashi would scoop him away for the day until Suga and Kuroo had his apartment and bedroom cleaned from top to bottom, no longer bearing a trace of any heat activities.

On a couple memorable occasions, Kuroo had even roped Kenma in on the fun. Getting snarky snaps that updated their progress, or Kenma threatening him into suppressing his next heat always raised his mood like nothing else.

The next week or so after, Bokuto would be bounced between the care of his packmates. The crash that came after a heat was no joke, but all of them had experience in dealing with Bokuto’s low points. During the lighter ones where all he needed was a cuddle and a good scenting to feel okay, to the darker times when he couldn’t even leave whichever of his packmate’s bedroom he was occupying at the moment, they had his back. They loved him, and they all knew that it would only be a matter of time before the good ol’ Bokuto they knew and loved sprang back into action.

Even if he needed just a tiny bit extra TLC to get there.

And listen, even as absolutely thoughtful as his packmates were, Daichi’s offer came out of left field.

Yeah, in the mentioned coffee shop, over delicious muffins and the good chai tea that Daichi insisted on paying for, the omega made his proposition. He offered to partner Bokuto on his upcoming heat.

Bokuto couldn’t exactly remember if he refused Daichi outright — he was too busy leaving the cafe in a panicked, flustered fit. He called Akaashi when he was a few blocks away, still feeling like all the blood in his face was replaced with molte _lava._

Akaashi, the _traitor_ _,_ thought it was a great idea. It was better than locking himself away for a week and leaving the others to pick up the pieces, he said. Insisted. Urged, maybe, if Akaashi felt that Bokuto was being particularly stubborn.

There was a full week of needling, and an affirmation that _you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,_ before Bokuto texted Daichi that, if the offer was still on the table, he’d totally be grateful for the help.

He was flattered, don’t get him wrong, but Bokuto wasn’t too thrilled about accepting Daichi’s offer. It was _trouble._ In the mental image he kept in his head, he was sort of akin to a mouse whittling cheese out of a trap, totally expecting for the wire to snap on him, but too damn hungry to do anything else.

Daichi was the only other omega in their pack, sure. And it was commonplace for omegas friends to help each other out when they had their heats, _yeah._ But Daichi suppressed up to the crown of his head and didn’t even _have_ heats. He’d take one look at Bokuto and call someone to come get him because it was _too much._

It wasn’t that he didn’t have any faith in ol’ Daichi-dude, because he did. Heaps of it. Bounds and loads, and buckets full. But Daichi was a medical student. He’d probably have Bokuto committed or something, for his own good. And then he would probably get kicked off of his team, because you couldn’t play volleyball if you were locked away, and Akaashi would be beside himself, and everything would buy an express ticket to hell.

These were all wonderful excuses. And as concerns, they were totally valid.

But the real reason Bokuto didn’t want to be anywhere _near_ Daichi’s apartment during his cycle came in the form of one tall pack Alpha who kissed Daichi goodbye, and said farewell with a cheek rubbed into the crown of Bokuto’s head.

Kuroo was going to spend the week at Kenma’s. Because Bokuto had kicked him out of his and his mate’s apartment for the week. Because Daichi was about to help him tackle his _heat._

Bokuto felt his chest ache as he watched Kuroo disappear down the hall, his body already singing for him to come back. When he turned back to Daichi, he could tell the other omega knew what he was thinking.

This was so dumb. He needed to get outta here. It wasn’t too late, he could call Akaashi, take a _bus_ if he needed to—

“Do you wanna come in?” Daichi asked, nudging the door open wide. Bokuto peeked around the frame, like somehow, in the past week or so since he’s been here, the welcoming air would have turned sour.

It hadn’t. The apartment was still as pleasant as always.

Everything had been taken care of beforehand. Between Suga taking them out for last minute groceries, and the checklist that Akaashi made them run through about boundaries and _safewords,_ and making sure they had each other on speed dial in case anything went wrong.

All Bokuto had to do was show up. And he had, so… what now?

“Thanks for having me over, Daichi, my man!” he grinned over his shoulder. This was fine, so routine. Everything was completely normal, he mentally insisted as he dropped his dufflebag by the couch. He sniffled, rubbing the back of his nose with his hand. Gosh, the air was thick.

The heat made his nose doubly sensitive, but this was bad. Maybe it was just _more_ now that he was here. Normally he would be locked in his bedroom by now, only smelling himself and whatever clothes he managed to steal from the others to nest with. Coming into the residence of an alpha, it kind of made sense that that’s all he could focus on.

“What do you usually, uh…” Daichi trailed off with a sharp laugh. “Sorry. This isn’t in my wheelhouse.”

Bokuto grinned and gave him a reassuring thumbs up. “Usually I nest first.” He scooped up his duffle and slung it over his shoulder. He was two steps towards the bedroom when he realized Daichi wasn’t keeping up with him. He looked over his shoulder to find the other omega snapping back to himself. “What?”

“I didn’t know you would be nesting,” he confessed. When he saw Bokuto’s face begin to fall, he put his hands between them, reassuring. “You can, absolutely. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to do that here. Kind of surprised.”

“Of course I am,” he scoffed. It was kind of obvious to him. He spent most of his week in these walls, whether it was sharing meals, or just hanging around them when they wanted a night in. Sometimes their apartment felt more like home than his own.

Not to read too much into that, or the pathetic longing implied, or anything.

Besides the obvious part, his inner more omegan instincts were also frothing at the damn mouth to sink into a nice ol’ nest. The fact that _alpha_ was filling every spare inch of the air was only a plus. A very, very good plus that made Bokuto’s skin feel like it was on _fire._

He took the bag to the bedroom and threw most of its contents to the bedspread. The bed here was bigger than the one at home. That meant two things. One: room meant a bigger nest (a nice plus). And two: a bigger nest meant he needed more clothes.

As if in his head, Daichi slid open their closet door and gestured to the hangers and drawers inside. “Take anything you need.”

Well, he didn’t have to tell Bokuto twice.

"So, Daichi-dude, are you gonna be okay missing classes like this?" Bokuto asked, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he sorted through their closet. Lots of Kuroo's clothes were gone, no doubt taken with him when he went to Kenma's. He didn't mind frowning to the closet. After all, the boards and fabrics could only berate him so much. He pulled out one of Sawamura's sweatpants out of the stacks and threw them over his shoulder.

He could feel the lethargy seeping into his body, slowly but surely. He wasn't, like, horny or anything yet. The sedative he took was doing its damn job, but it also made him light on his feet. In the _'_ _I have no stability and I'm gonna fall’_ type of way. He yanked a few things off their hangers and crossed the room to lob them on the bed.

Daichi scooted over, making space for Bokuto to climb on the bed with him. "It won't be too bad. I did a lot of studying beforehand just in case this actually panned out. And I've got a friend who will give me everything I missed, so I'm confident I can jump back in."

Bokuto folded his legs under him, staring at the pile of clothes accumulating in the middle of the bed. "First practice back is gonna be so _rough_." He took a scratchy pair of pants and threw them onto the floor, joined by another, and a velvet _something or other._ Kuroo's, definitely.

"Is your coach accommodating?" he asked, an edge of something in his voice.

Bokuto laughed. "He's fine. But if I don't get to play when I get back, you'll hear about it.” With a sound in the base of his throat, he set to work, trying to get this exactly _right._

Daichi watched him in fascinated silence, sitting on one corner of the mattress with his chin propped up on a palm. His elbow was braced on his knee, and Bokuto told him he looked very much like an old man right then. “I’m just interested!” he defended.

Bokuto looked down to his work, blinking. “It’s kind of normal,” he said, pushing one of Akaashi’s sweaters under a pillow. “Well, other than how I got some of Kenma’s stuff this time!” He held up a hoodie proudly, his chest puffing out.“Kenma doesn’t lend you things?” Daichi questioned.

“He always says I’m gonna get it filthy. I never do, though! I’m always super careful with them. And that one time I _did_ accidentally got slick on one of his pants, I washed them like, four times before I gave them back. Well, I did the first time, but then I ran out of coins, so Akaashi washed them. But yeah, it’s kind of cool that I got these this time around.” He nodded absently and tucked the hoodie safely out of the way. It really was impressive each and every time he pulled it off.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Daichi shifted, tucking his feet up under him. “No, I don’t nest, so it’s cool to see someone in action like this?”

“Not at all?” Bokuto asked, his nose scrunching up. Daichi shook his head. “Well then, Sawamura. This is gonna be the comfiest nest you’ve ever _seen_!”

-

Bokuto was _jittering._ He’d left for three seconds to go pee, and whatever peace he’d built was long gone by the time he came back and found Daihi sitting at the very edge of the bed. Just at the edge of the new nest, waiting for Bokuto’s say-so before going in.

Bo didn’t know what to do! He settled in the chair by the desk, and fought the urge to sit on his hands. He was kicking his foot under the desk, tapping his fingers against his thigh, like every shred of his body was vibrating. Even Daichi was tense. Bokuto could _feel_ that he was tense from the space between them. He wasn't quite looking at Bokuto, but his glances were frequent enough to prick up the skin on the back of Bokuto's neck.

It was _awkward,_ and Bokuto couldn’t catch the words to fill the silence. His head was fuzzy, and suddenly he thought that the cap full of cough syrup he'd taken before he left might have been the wrong move. He was lethargic in a way he wasn't used to, and the weight of it settled in the fingers tapping at his thigh.

Daichi shifted, and the breath Bokuto took in was _sharp._

The other omega stilled instantly. He'd been bracing to get up, and instead his fingers knotted into the crisp comforter that Bokuto had pushed to the end of the bed. It was just washed — Bokuto could smell the fresh detergent from across the room — but it still swam in a scent that only registered to Bokuto as alpha.

He wondered if he'd laid out on that bed after they made up the blankets. He could picture it now, Daichi pulling Kuroo to the bed. The details were fuzzy, he couldn't keep track of the mess of limbs in his mind. Barely anything mattered to him beyond Daichi, and the heat pooling in his gut and dripping in his veins, the smell of _alpha—_

Daichi called his name, and Bokuto blinked sluggishly, and then jerked to attention, looking up to him. When had he moved? He was standing in front of Bokuto now, hands hovering like he wasn't sure if he could touch. He did, after a moment. Gentle hands on either side of his face guiding him to look up at the other omega. "You in there?" he asked.

Bokuto nodded, and the movement squished his cheeks up in Daichi's hands. “Yeah, where else would I be?”

"Do you want to move to the bed?" he asked, voice as soft as his touch. "You don't look very comfortable over here."

It took him a moment to remember how to move his tongue. He swallowed, a frown pinching between his brows. "I don't know what's gonna happen if I do," he confessed. "I can't—ah. My head's all filled up, but I don't know what with."

Daichi smiled, sliding a hand up through his hair. "What's so different than normal?" he teased. Bokuto puffed out his cheeks, ready for a comeback. He huffed when none came. Daichi seemed to take it in stride. "Nothing happens unless it’s at your pace," he promised. He scratched at his scalp, and Bokuto melted into the attention, pushing into his hand. With his other hand, his thumb stroked at Bokuto's cheek.

Even at such small attention, Bokuto shook. He reached out, curling his fingers into the outer pant leg of Daichi's sweats.

The trouble with going at Bokuto's pace was that he wasn’t entirely sure where that was. He should have been holed up in his bedroom right now, pretending that he wasn’t ignoring a movie when he was actually so chalked full of need, but too stubborn to do anything about it but wrap himself up in his blankets and try not to even think of the words _alpha,_ or _Kuroo,_ or more recently, _Daichi._

This was peculiar practice, with Daichi between his legs, stroking his hair, and the smell of his boyfriend all over the room, scented like a jealous teenager.

"I'm okay right now." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Daichi or himself. His voice already sounded like he'd been gargling sand, despite the bottle of water that Daichi had slapped into his palm as soon as he even crossed the threshold of their tiny apartment.

Daichi nodded. "That's okay. Do you need anything?"

Side stepping the obvious answer, Bokuto tipped his head to the side. Something deep in his mind relaxed at the show of submission, and it damn well preened when Daichi leaned in to nuzzle at his scent gland. He rubbed at Bokuto's neck with his cheek, and the grip in his hair tightened, and Bokuto's breath stammered in his chest. His hands shot out, one fisting the material of Daichi's t-shirt, and the other pulling him closer by the neck.

"There you go," he crooned. He pressed a small kiss just shy of the gland before licking a fat stripe up over it, dragging up his throat. Bokuto keened, slipping back in his chair and dragging Daichi with him.

"C’mon," he murmured. _"_ _C’mon,_ Daichi."

"I was going to say that this might be forward of me, but—," Daichi broke off with a laugh, dropping his forehead on Bokuto's shoulder.

"You’re probably gonna see me pretty naked soon, Sawamura," Bokuto choked out, the corner of his mouth picking up in a smirk that Daichi couldn't even see, "I don't think you can get more forward, but you can try."

Daichi hummed. He put his knee in the space between Bokuto's thighs on the seat. "I was just going to say that you smell fantastic."

Bokuto huffed a laugh. "Speak for yourself."

Daichi continued to kiss his throat, giving the occasional nip when Bokuto's fingers dug into his nape. "Is it bad? The heat," he clarified.

Shaking his head, he pushed the omega back. "No, uh..." he screwed his face up, trying to _think._ "It's started, but it won't get bad for a while. Probably a few more hours. I usually watch a movie, or put on a game until then."

"Do you want to do that?"

Bokuto must have made a face, because Daichi quirked an eyebrow at him. "I mostly want to pass out."

"We can do that." He stood and went to go stall near the nest, never going in. Bokuto watched him work as he fluffed out a pillow and then tucked it back in its place. He looked back to Bokuto, and the omega gasped in a deep breath through the mouth.

_Alright, Koutarou. You got this._

He pushed himself up to join Daichi, trying not to breathe in too deep through his nose, trying to push back that sweet temptation that drew him forward like a crook to a lamb's neck.

Bokuto wondered what he'd look like as a lamb. No doubt fluffy and too stinkin’ adorable for comfort.

He gestured for Daichi to climb in with him, little giggles plucking at his lungs.

"What are you laughing about?" Daichi asked as he slid into the bed next to Bokuto. He offered his arms, and Bokuto eagerly found his place in them.

"Imagining myself as a lamb," Bokuto answered.

Daichi snorted. "Is this what everyone means by heat-stupidity?" he questioned, tucking his chin to look down at him.

He shook his head. "No, see, that's when I start going into emo mode over dumb shit, like how soft the bed sheets are," he told him, matter of fact, "or, like, being hugged, or kissed..." he trailed off, cheeks ablaze because _getting fucked stupid_ was next on his list.

Between the clogging his head, and the sedative making it feel like he was slogging through tar, he wasn't sure what was artificial, hormonal stupid, and just plain _Bokuto Koutarou Brand_ stupidity.

"I feel like I should ask what's got you all embarrassed," Daichi pulled on a lock of his hair, and Bokuto slammed his eyes shut in defense. "For future reference."

Bokuto cracked an eye open to peer up at him. "Reference, huh? If I didn't know any better, Daichi, I'd say you were trying to seduce me. Not that I blame you, you're looking at a fine specimen, you know. I was a national level ace at one time."

"Just one time?"

Glaring, Bokuto nodded his head once. "Yeah, well, now I'm shooting for the big leagues. Keep looking for my name, Sawamura, I'll get there."

"I'll keep my eyes peeled." Daichi's voice was so deep and warm. The teasing lilt was still there, but there was something beneath it all. Something that, if Bokuto didn't know any better, was akin to pride. “Your nest is very comfortable, by the way,” he praised.

Bokut hummed a thank you, feeling warm and suspiciously content. He didn't have time to dissect it any further, because before he knew it, he was slipping under.

-

The thing about a sedative before heat, is that... Well, for Bokuto, it really wasn’t worth it.

He woke up dizzy and disoriented. He knew that he was in the bed of one Kuroo-Daichi residence. Daichi was still dozing next to him.

His head was sluggish as he got up to go to the bathroom. He could feel the beginnings of his heat, and knew that it would spike pretty soon. He didn't want to wake Daichi up just to bother him with something like this. Normally, he wouldn't be above asking for help if he needed it. Daichi was a gentle soul and surely wouldn't be too hard on him when he got angry for being woken up. But...

Bokuto stared at himself in the vanity and cringed. His hair was down, looking odd to even him without all the gel he used. There were no dark circles, no overgrown stubble. He didn't look tired, not really. The glimmer in his eyes said it all. He wasn't going to last like this for very long at all.

So far the pain hadn't kicked up. The cramps were blessedly abated — Bokuto couldn't tell _why,_ it just gave him the presence of mind to be thankful. Maybe it was the sedative still swirling around his system. He didn't know the medical checkings-out of that, but he thought that maybe it had legs.

The other theory he had, and the one that seemed a little bit more likely was that it was a result because he'd been scented. He didn't get a lot of touch when he was going through his heats. He certainly didn't get scented like Daichi had done to him. There was just something very disquieting about scenting a heated omega without bonding to them — or helping them, like Daichi was doing for him.

That, and the combination of Kuroo's pheromones swimming in the apartment, Bokuto's omega hindbrain was _thriving_ in the most delicious way. And the most embarrassing way.

He had the rabid thought about turning over in Daichi's arms and tucking his knees up under himself. He'd thought about presenting to another omega. The very concept seemed so...

Well, Bokuto didn't know. Wrong wasn't the right word for it. Taboo, maybe. It was something he was going to potentially take to his very grave for fear of what others thought of the notion.

Nonetheless, even thinking of it now, under the dull yellow light of the bathroom, staring into his own hungry eyes made him hot. It stirred something in his gut that he was afraid to stoke.

There would always be time for that later, after all.

Later, when he was truly heat-stupid and in so much pain he thought he might die.

_Gosh._ He'd been so stupid to let Daichi help him, now. Truly, he should have shouldered through it, gently refusing the other omega. Pack obligations or no, Bokuto should never have brought Daichi into this. He would probably be lucky if he didn't end up in the hospital after his wonderful, concerned pack Omega forced him to go.

He blanched at the thought of sterile white walls, trembling through his heat in a waiting room full of strangers.

Promising Daichi to not only a vow of silence, but of never taking him to the hospital was at the very top of the to-do list for whenever the omega woke up.

He washed his hands and debated rooting through Daichi's industrial stash of blockers. Bokuto fucking hated them, but they might’ve stowed a little bit of embarrassment for the time being. It'd keep the scent of a fresh heat hidden and allow him to be able to take in their scents easier without the obstruction of his own.

The only thing that held him back were the words that Daichi said to him yesterday. The look in his eyes when he complimented his scent made a tremble pass through his shoulders.

Bokuto rubbed his fingers into the glands in his right wrist, tracing the scar there. It was his first pack bite, the mark of Akaashi's teeth in his skin mirroring the bite Bokuto had given him late one summer night after Akaashi had graduated. His left wrist, on the other hand, was messy. There were several sets, most of which overlapped each other. With only a bit of thought he could pick out whose was whose.

His gland was swollen and odd-looking under the scar tissue. He could feel the others in much the same state. The ones in his neck, he was _hyper_ aware of. There was a thudding need ingrained into every bit of him that wanted a bite. It wanted _blood_ and _bond._ He wanted to be filled and _taken._

"Shit," he muttered, a shudder tearing up his spine.

_That would be the heat._

If there were any doubts otherwise, he was tenting his sweatpants. He was sure that if he shifted just right, he would feel the squelch of slick. He had to fight to stifle a groan.

Daichi was still asleep.

He swallowed hard, wincing. Screw this. Bokuto was a big boy. A big boy who had done this time and time again. He didn't need to crawl back into Daichi's bed and beg, he would be fine. At _least_ until Daichi woke up.

Trying to think of things to do that were definitely _not_ fingering yourself in your packmate's bathroom, with your heat partner in the next room were hard, but he finally settled on one. Making breakfast, he figured, was better than anything. Something to keep him busy and alert.

Fucking anything, he begged in a silent prayer as he skirted out of the bedroom, resolutely looking anywhere but the bed and the omega occupying it.

The kitchen was cool, and a welcome change from the stuffy bathroom. It was airy, and lacking the certain... _quality_ that was absolutely hazed-out with pheromones. His, or Daichi's, _or_ Kuroo's. He guessed that maybe it simply didn't occur to the alpha to scent this part of the apartment. Or he thought it unsanitary. Either way, Bokuto was grateful.

He didn't end up preparing much. A rolled omelette or two was all he could gather his mind for. He barely trusted himself enough to use the stove for an extended amount of time on a regular basis, much less one when his head was all stuffed up with heat. He kept looking at the hallway to the bedroom, like Daichi was going to come tripping out any minute like one of those hot romance erotica novels Bokuto had only heard of.

When Daichi actually did wander out of the bedroom, he was scrubbing at his eyes, and following his nose.

"You made _breakfast?"_ he asked, his face pinched in utter disbelief.

"I had time to kill, so I figured," he finished with a shrug and pushed the lukewarm omelette across the table. "Always start the day with a good meal, Daichi-dude, that's rule one." He nodded towards him, and Daichi fell into his chair, taking up his fork. "Also I had to do something before I rearranged your whole place."

Another drawback to the beginnings of heat. Every minute he wasn’t fussing with a nest, he was holding himself back from fussing with the _rest_ of his livingspace. A bucket full of trouble for him to inevitably look back and go _ew, why did I do that?_

Daichi snorted. "Have at it. We've been meaning to spring clean, anyway."

Bokuto hooted a laugh. "I see why you really had me over! This free maid service is _closed._ You didn't even offer me one of those cute dresses." He shook his head mournfully. "No sir. No dress, no service."

Daichi grinned at him, fork raised half-way to his mouth. "Let me look in the closet, I might have one from when Kuroo last wore it."

Bokuto whipped his head to the other omega, a ruddy blush high on his cheeks. The way Daichi's shoulders shook with contained laughter is what had Bokuto deflating.

"You _tease,_ Sawamura," he huffed, glaring.

"Only some." Daichi was well tucked into his omelette when he looked back up to Bokuto. Bokuto raised his eyebrows in question, ignoring the way Daichi's pupils were blown wide made him want to gasp every curse, give himself to the omega in every way possible. "You only call me by my given name when you tease."

Bokuto waved his hand between them before grabbing his mug to take a sip. "I've got to level the playing field somehow."

"What do you mean?"

"It gets you hot," he stated plainly. "And I'm hotter than a drought in July. Will be for the next, you know. You know. I gotta get my licks in somewhere, don't I?"

Daichi stared at him. "You get in enough _licks_ just sitting there," he promised. "Speaking of which, you smell..." He put his fork down next to his half-empty plate. He tipped his head, like he wasn't sure how to put it delicately.

"Dripping?" Bokuto supplied, voice flat.

Daichi pressed his lips together. "Yes. You smell like it's in full swing. I honestly don't know how you can sit here like this, holding a conversation."

"It's called developed skill, Daichi-dude!" he touted, tipping his mug towards Daichi with a grin. "I've been holding this kind of thing back a long time. I could make a grocery run right now." He paused, considering Daichi and his tendency to tease and Bokuto's own reputation to never back down from a challenge. "Please don't make me leave right now."

"Don't worry, I won't.” He paused, and Bokuto watched as he parsed the words around his mouth before sharing. "I don't think I could share this scent with anyone else."

And that's not what Bokuto was expecting him to say.

Bokuto carefully replaced his mug on the table. Under the table he crossed his legs at the ankle and clenched his thighs together. Daichi watched him carefully before standing. He cleared the table away, not bothering to wash the dishes before he dipped out of the room. Bokuto almost followed him, simply on principle, but Daichi's _I'll be right back_ kept him in his seat. He tapped his thumb against the table, bouncing his knee. Dammit. He craned his neck to see out of the kitchen and down the hall. Nothing.

He could vaguely hear Daichi running water, and a cold shower wouldn't be too bad right about now. He drank the rest of his tea in two quick gulps, and went to put his mug in the sink. He was beginning to feel the first semblance of a cramp twinging in his lower abdomen, and _here we go,_ he thought. His hand curled around the lip of the counter, and he took in a little breath. It was more of the anticipation than anything. He had all too many intimate experiences with how much heats could just _suck._

He pulled the collar of his t-shirt to his nose and let his eyes drift close at the relief he caught even from the soft, sleepy scent clinging to the fabric.

Something in his stomach unwound, but another kind of tension propped right back up. The hot curl of arousal scrapped for his attention again, just in time for Daichi to rejoin him.

The omega didn't waste any time with coming into Bokuto's space, backing him up against the counter. It might've been funny, in any other instance, their inches in height difference. But right now, Bokuto couldn't help but be dwarfed under that calculating stare. Bokuto could smell the mint of the toothpaste he'd used, and the soap he'd used on his face. Everything was sharper during heat. Every taste and touch and smell was so much _more._

"Can I help?" Daichi's hand curled around Bokuto's on the counter. He grabbed Bokuto's hip with the other, and Bokuto took in a gasp through his teeth.

He couldn't even catch his own reply, but it had Daichi leaning on to kiss his neck, so it couldn't have been that bad.

The tension shifted, and Daichi's hand drifted from his hip around to grip his thigh just under his ass. "Are you cramping at all?" he asked.

How did Daichi expect him to remember how to use sentences when he shifted his thigh between Bokuto's like that? It took every gram of self-restraint in his being to not rut down against that powerful thigh.

Bokuto didn't have very much self restraint on a good day, nevertheless going through heat, pressed against a counter by the omega he's literally dreamed about.

Just as he’d gotten a good rhythm, Daichi pulled away. "Koutaru," Daichi pulled back. It was too little. He wasn’t able to catch the whine before it fell from his mouth. It tumbled, cracked around the middle, and desperate.

“Sawamura,” he gasped, his hips jerking of their own accord, _"_ _come on, please."_

“Okay. _Okay_ _,”_ he muttered, somehow sounding more frazzled than Bokuto himself. “Bedroom. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

At some point or another, his clothes were tugged off. He suspected it was somewhere between Daichi pushing him up against the bedroom door, hands probing and quick until he had made Bokuto come, shuddering against the wood, and being pressed into the rumpled bed sheets.

The first orgasm was quick. To take the edge off, Daichi said, and that there was a long road ahead of them. Didn’t Bokuto fucking know it.

He already felt like he was dipping into the worst of it, with every touch so magnified that he didn’t know if he wanted to pull Daichi closer or push him _away._

In the same breath, he couldn’t imagine ever pushing those hands away. They were skillful and patient, never progressing farther than what Bokuto said was okay. Bokuto’s fingers wound in Daichi’s short hair, pulling what he could until the other got the idea and slid up, up, up, until he was close enough to kiss. Bokuto shuddered under his touch until his back arched and his shoulders tensed. With a broken cry, he was spilling between them.

-

When he’d offered to help Bokuto, realistically, Daichi thought he knew how it was going to go.

He was going to be there for moral support, to try and help sooth Bokuto’s cramps. He would make sure that he was fed, and had plenty to drink, and otherwise took care of himself. He would let Bokuto take the lead on just how far they went, but he didn’t think it was going to go much farther than maybe holding him while Bokuto got himself off. 

He’d gone to ask Michimiya about it, barely able to keep his mortification from showing. She had experience with helping her friends with their heats, and from what she told him, it seemed straightforward. Scenting from the neck and a knotting dildo was the greatest comfort there was to an unmated omega.

Clothing scented by an alpha was a good bonus to carry them through the first few days when everything would be at its height. By the time the scent waned, the omega should’ve been able to fare pretty well on their own.

Daichi had Kuroo all over the apartment when he’d gotten home. There was a new toy in a shopping bag sitting at the foot of their bed, waiting to be sterilized for Bokuto’s… _uses._ If there was anything he could have done to make this heat better for Koutarou, he had gone that extra mile.

By the time Bokuto had arrived, Kuroo was long gone from their apartment, and Daichi was _ready._ Well — he’d thought so. By breakfast, he thought that the heatscent was going to drive him insane. Everything Bokuto had done, from the way his throat bobbed as he drank his tea, to the easy smile he somehow kept up drove Daichi farther and farther up the wall.

His plans for an easy “hands off heataid” flew out the goddamn window at the first _please._ Every one after only furthered to crumble his resolve.

Here, with Bokuto half asleep splayed over Daichi with his thigh hitched up over the other omega’s hip, Daichi thought that wasn’t much he would be able to say _no_ to right now.

They’d rode out the first wave or two together, with three of Daichi’s fingers in him, and his lips to his throat. Daichi had prodded him into the shower, and now here they lay, tangled up in each other. He ran his fingers through Bokuto’s hair, scratching idly behind his ear, and tried not to muse on how utterly _perfect_ their bedroom smelled. The only thing that could make this better was if Kuroo was dripped along in their little cuddle puddle.

“Whatever you’re puttin’ in your water over here, I wanna double order at my place,” a sleepy murmur broke through the hazy quiet. Prickly morning stubble rubbed against his chest as Bokuto shifted, propping his chin up.

Daichi ran his fingers through his hair one more time before settling his hands on either side of his face. “Oh? Feel like you’re getting big and strong?”

An aborted sound was all he got before Bokuto flopped back down, his arms circling around Daichi’s middle. “Just feel good.”

He hummed, his hands rubbing across strong shoulders. “That’s a good thing.”

Bokuto agreed with a soft hum. “Not to be absolutely greedy or anything…” he trailed off, pressing a wet, smacking kiss into Daichi’s chest.

“Need it again?”

“If you don’t have anything better to do.”

“Actually,” Daichi slowly pushed himself up to one elbow, rolling Bokuto onto his back. He shifted over the other omega, caging him in with his forearms on either side of his head. “If I think about it, I’ve got a to-do list we can get started on—”

Bokuto tilted his head up to kiss him, clearly in no mood to be teased. “Later, later,” were the words lost somewhere between their mouths. His fingers knotted in the back of Daichi’s hair, holding him exactly where he wanted him as he took what he wanted.

Daichi’s hands drifted, hitching one of Bokuto’s calves over his back so he could rock into him. Bokuto shuddered a moan and pulled him closer. “Come _ooon_ _,”_ he whined, rolling his hips tight against Sawamura’s.

“I asked Michimiya about your cramps,” he said. They could have been talking about class courses for how casual Daichi kept his tone. He reached down, giving Bokuto’s cock a quick tug before reaching down to fit two fingers inside him. He was still loose from earlier, pliant in a way Daichi could only assume was the heat.

Bokuto’s groan was caught between sounding inquisitive and embarrassed. He bucked his hips, but didn’t say anything beyond, _another._

“She said it was something to do with alpha pheromones.”

Bokuto froze from where he’d been pulling some item of clothing or the next closer to him. He cracked open his eyes to look at Daichi, looking terribly caught. “It’s a natural respon- _se!”_ he cried, indignant and defensive until the very end. Daichi twisted his fingers, and the words fell to little more than a hiss. Bokuto pulled him in, tucking his face into Daichi’s neck. He licked a fat stripe over his mating mark and sucked gently at the ridges of his scar.

Daichi sucked a gasp in through his teeth and curled his fingers in response. Bokuto keened, dropping back into the pillows with a gasp of Daichi’s name.

He was so _wet,_ clenching desperately at Daichi’s fingers like he was afraid he’d pull out at any moment. More likely, Daichi knew, it was to keep him inside. Wanting a knot to lock against, so be stuffed full of an alpha cock and their seed. A biological need to be taken and kept.

The image seared into his brain, of being able to give Bokuto what he wanted, a knot, _a mate._ To be able to share with him everything that made his life so happy—

He had to force the thought away and make himself focus on the omega beneath him. Daichi was already hard, a little spot wetting in his boxers, he didn’t need any other distractions. Kuroo-shaped and entirely conceptual, or otherwise.

Daichi took hold of the shirt Bokuto had been fishing for earlier and pulled it under Bokuto’s cheek.

His response was immediate, turning to bury his face in the fabric, his fingers twisting in the folds. Daichi dropped to suck kisses into his throat, paying special attention to his unmarred scent gland. Softly, with care and a mindfulness that Daichi was honestly surprised that he could latch onto. Bokuto moaned, muffled by the shirt hiding his face.

He rutted absentmindedly against Bokuto’s hip. It was a low friction to keep himself grounded, but Bokuto encouraged it with a hand on Daichi’s hip. 

Daichi kissed a line up his jaw, all the way up to his ear. “The scent keeps an omega happy,” he conceded, “but it’s like a plaster, just something to hold you together while you wait for a knot.”

Bokuto whined. Daichi was about to go on when Bokuto emerged from his hiding place, looking almost pitiful with his brows pinched together and his lower lip caught between his teeth. “Un- _hah_ -unless you’ve grown one in the-the past ha _aallf hour_ —” He cut himself off with a sharp moan. Daichi’s fingers pressed into his prostate in tight little circles, and Bokuto’s eyes went unfocused for a long minute.

“It might not be as good as the real thing, but w—I picked one up with you in mind.”

With his nose buried in Kuroo’s shirt, and Daichi’s hands on him, Bokuto choked on a sob.

“Such a good omega,” he crooned, nosing just under Bokuto’s ear. “You’re being so _good,_ Koutarou. Look at how wet you are for me.”

He twisted, his upper body curling in on itself. Daichi didn’t know if he should slow down. Maybe he ought to stop and ask if he was okay—

As soon as he made the move to pull away, Bokuto shot out to grip Daichi’s hand and pull him right back. Daichi returned three of his fingers to his sopping hole, muttering mindless praise in his ear.

His muscles fluttered around Daichi’s fingers, slick gushing as he came. Whatever he muttered, Daichi couldn’t catch it. The words were caught between the fabric Bokuto shoved between his teeth at the very last second.

Daichi brought him through it, fingering him until he stilled against the mattress. It didn't take long to bring himself off after that, tucking himself into Bokuto’s neck and drinking in the scent of the happy omega. He came with a groan, his teeth fitted into Bokuto’s shoulder. The omega keened in response, and Daichi knew he wanted the bite closer, in the crook of his neck.

He almost mourned to move, but he eventually pushed himself off to lay face-down at Bokuto’s side.

“Hey. Hey, Sawamura,” Bokuto spoke up after a few minutes, batting his shoulder, “have you done this kind of thing before?” he asked. Daichi didn’t bother looking up, just listened to Bokuto try to level his breathing again. “You wouldn’t have to say that kind of thing during a rut. But it seems like you always know just what to say! You could make online classes or something for people.”

“You mean porn?” he deadpanned.

“Yeah!” Bouto chirped. “But in a helping way.”

Daichi snorted a laugh and propped his chin up on his wrist. “It’s not like I just pulled it out of thin air,” he said.

Suddenly, Bouto pushed himself up to his elbows. “Wait, you were serious? You got me a knot? I wanna see! Where is it?”

Daichi groaned into the sheets. How someone could have so much energy, Daichi would never know.

-

“Man,” Bokuto moaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Do you think if you waxed your face before your heat stubble would grow slower? Like swimmers?”

Daichi laughed, but didn’t turn away from the stove. “I think swimmers shave, too.”

He melted into the tabletop, nudging a glass or two out of the way of his arms. “Trouble is all it is. I’m _itchy.”_ He rubbed his cheek against his upper arm and pouted. His eyes trailed over Daichi’s back, tracing the curve of his shoulders and the slope of his back. Just out of the shower, his hair dripped, dotting the color of his shirt darker still.

Bokuto wasn’t entirely sure why they’d put clothes back on, if Bokuto’s heat was inevitably going to swing back way sooner than it was later. They’d had nearly an entire day that was suspiciously devoid of any heat-driven urges. His peak was right around the corner, then. His body was giving him one solid moment of rest before it kicked into overdrive.

That’s how his heats normally ran, anyhow. But these past few days with Daichi had picked apart everything Bokuto knew about his heat and flipped it on its head. No cramps, no anxiety. Daichi got him to eat regular meals, and _shower_ , which was what single handedly fit this time in the _wacko, weird heat_ category.

_It’s to establish a semblance of normalcy,_ Daichi said. Like it was totally an everyday thing for Bokuto to be kicking it around his and Kuroo’s kitchen in nothing but his boxers and one of Kuroo’s t-shirts, waiting on a delicious breakfast to appease his grumbling stomach. Against Bokuto’s very best wishes, he had yet to wake up in a world where this was considered _normal._

Daichi slid a bowl to him before sitting down across the table. “I’ll help you after you eat.”

It would be awful easy to do it and let Bokuto blame it on the haze of heat later. But to do something like that, completely clear headed, made Bokuto’s skin feel tight and his heart clench. The omega shook his head and pulled himself to sit up. “I’m alright, actually. Wouldn’t say no to a couch cuddle, though!” Safe territory, that’s what he was trekking back towards. Cuddle, that’s what good omegas did. That’s what packmates could do without fear of their actions being taken the wrong way. Without any doubts of their intentions. “Maybe even a call to the others.”

“I meant I could help you shave,” Daichi corrected, “but we can do all that, too.”

Bokuto stilled, a bite half-raised to his mouth. He could feel heat in his cheeks, staining the tips of his ears. Of all the things they’ve done so far, all the parts of Bokuto that Daichi has seen, everything he’s _heard,_ and _that_ is what makes Bokuto blush?

“Oh. Oh, then yeah. Sure.”

After they were finished, the dishes were stacked in the sink, and Daichi herded him into the bathroom. Bokuto ended up sitting on the lip of the counter, with a can of shaving cream slapped in his hands.

Daichi ran a sink full of water, and Bokuto hummed a tune. With a _shhhp,_ there was a Ball of foam on his palm that he patted over his cheeks. Even with careful fingers, it still globbed over his nose. He huffed, but the air only served to disturb the foam and tickle his nose. Daichi flicked off the water droplets clinging to his fingers so he could reach over and swipe it off.

Bokuto regarded him as Daichi wiped his fingers on a hand towel. “You’re too good for me, S’mura.”

“I’m only making sure you get what you need.”

Bokuto held his eyes, narrowed stubbornly. Even still, with his hair tousled and sticking up in odd places, or as he globbed shaving cream on his own jaw, Daichi looked so _handsome._

Bokuto reached out to palm the remaining foam on his packmate’s face before he could get too far down that track of thought.

Daichi spluttered and glared at him. “Be careful,” he warned, “don’t mess with the one about to take a razor to your neck.”

“As long as you don’t have any long-lost ties to vampires, we’ll be okay,” he grinned. “Unless that’s a kink for you, S’mura, then that’s a whole other ballgame— _BLEGH_ —” He spat the foam in the sink as Daichi rolled with laughter, wiping his fingers on his sweatpants this time. “Not cool, man,” he huffed, his nose scrunching up in distaste.

The other omega seemed content to be doubled over, holding his stomach. Bokuto kicked out at him until he calmed down, gasping in deep breaths.

“Come fix this, I can’t see,” Bokuto bade him, pouting as he tilted his chin up. He stared at the light, but watched Daichi move in his peripherals.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” His voice was still colored in peels of laughter. His shoulders gave the occasional jerk, but his fingers were steady as it smoothed the smeared shaving cream back in place. “There. Very handsome.”

“Heh. Think I’ll get all the cool alphas, now?” he asked, tilting his chin side to side.

Daichi hummed, going for the razor next to the sink. “You’ll probably find that some alphas are easier than others.” He guided Bokuto to look up with a fingertip underneath his chin. His eyes fluttered from the ceiling light, to the walls, back to Daichi’s face in a matter of seconds.

Out of the side of his mouth, he muttered, “I’m not too sure if you can speak about the eligible alpha population anymore.” He raised one eyebrow, catching Daichi’s eyes for a split second before the omega was refocused on his work.

He had such a look of concentration. With the part of his lips and the furrow to his brow, Bokuto knew he didn’t have an inch of attention to spare anything else but Bokuto right now.

“Well,” he drawled, taking his time drawing the straight razor down Bokuto’s cheek. He wiped it clean on the towel over his shoulder before he made another pass. “Maybe I’m speaking from experience.”

Bokuto’s laugh was barely a breath from his nose. “That’s my packmate you’re talking about there, Sawamura.”

“If he’s got a problem, he can come see me.” The razor tucked under his lip, careful and sure. Bokuto hummed, letting his eyes slip shut as Daichi worked.

“Miss ‘im.”

Daichi’s thumb rubbed soothing circles under his ear. “Me too.” Another minute or two and the soft towel mopped the dregs of foam off of his face. “Wanna call before you go under again?”

“Can we?” he asked, his eyes fluttering open. His grin stretched so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Yeah,” Daichi smiled, “but we better hurry.” He jerked his head, and Bokuto all but launched off the counter to head back into the bedroom.

The bed was a mess, the perfectly suitable nest had all but deteriorated in the past couple of days. Bokuto was never one to be super particular about his nests, but it was looking a little… _flat._

It didn’t matter much, because as soon as he kneeled into the mattress, he was rooting through the clothes, considering and feeling textures before he came back up, victorious. He pulled it up and almost tumbled backwards off the bed with the momentum.

The hoodie was yolk yellow and worn soft. It was oversized, even on him. Stolen from Kenma’s closet, Bokuto was extremely surprised that the little beta hadn’t come knocking on their door to demand it back yet.

By the time he had found a pair of sweatpants to pull on, Daichi emerged from the bathroom. He looked so much younger without all the stubble, with that sense of classic handsomeness shining through. He, too, went directly for the nest, gently looking through the mound of clothes.

“Have you seen my phone?”

“Huh-uh.” He pulled the pants on and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Haven’t seen it.”

He thought he _might have_ heard a muffled _"_ _I got it!”_ but who could really say, with Daichi wiggling himself under more and more blankets. When he wiggled out, though, he had his phone clutched in his hand. He shooed Bokuto into the living room, and Bokuto tried not to dwell on how excited he seemed, or how he felt exactly the same.

-

“Hey,” Bokuto nudged Daichi in the side, pulling his attention off of his book. He’d been on the same page for like six minutes. They were in the middle of a cooldown period, neither wound down enough for a nap. Daichi had been reading to him at first, but Bokuto had drifted. When he woke up, Daichi was just staring off into space in the direction of the book.

Startling, Daichi snapped to look at him. “Time again?” There was an audible crack when he rotated his wrist, like he was warming up. He probably needed it. He doubted he got much wrist action like Bokuto had been putting him through these last few days.

Nevertheless, he shook his head. He woke up with a question stuck in his head. “How did Kuroo court you if you don’t nest?” he asked. Daichi’s expression dipped into a surprise frown, but Bokuto barreled on. “Like,” he propped his chin up on his palm, staring up at the other omega. “Nesting gifts are tradition number one! So how in the _hell_ did he manage to court you if you wouldn’t accept all the plush blankets and cuties that the common omega craves?”

Daichi snorted a laugh. He snapped the book closed on his finger and rested it in his lap. “Oh, he still gave them to me.”

Bokuto gawked at him. “You mean that you let an alpha give you stuff like that, and then you didn’t use it? What did you do with them?”

He was met with a shrug. “They cluttered up my room until graduation.”

“Cold, Daichi. That’s _cold,”_ he murmured with every bit of awe he could muster. He launched up, pushing Daichi into the nest with a wild grin. The omega blinked up at him, gripping his upper arms in shock. “You are so cool!”

“Oh come on,” Daichi snorted, shoving him aside. It devolved from there. They tumbled in the nest, refusing to give each other ground as they wrestled. Soon, Bokuto’s hair was wild and he was panting. The heat prickled back under his skin like goosebumps.

It was all too easy for Daichi to pin him down. His hands held Bokuto’s wrists into the bed as he caged him in. He panted hot breaths across Bokuto’s cheek, grinning victoriously.

His struggles were feeble, and it was no surprise that Daichi didn’t budge.

There’s little Bokuto could do but kiss him.

A thumb caressed into the scent gland in his wrist, and he keened. Daichi’s kisses were wonderful, but they wandered. From his lips, to nibble his ear. To his jaw, all the way down the column of his throat. When he found Bokuto’s neck gland, he paused, almost like that was his destination all along. He licked and sucked, kissing fluttering little kisses until Bokuto canted his hips and tried to get a leg up and over Daichi’s hip.

No such luck, with the way Daichi caged him in. But the omega did him the service of dropping most of his weight onto Bokuto, rolling his hips with him, matching the jerking rhythm Bokuto set.

It was good. It was so good. Every place where Daichi’s skin met his felt like it was on fire. Bokuto was powerless but to melt against him.

But...

Bokuto’s face twisted up, it wasn’t right. Wasn’t what he needed.

Like magic — definitely less in the magical way, and more in the way Daichi’s eyes were focused on Bokuto with a startling intensity — Daichi stilled against him. He was still pressing in, still heavy and wonderful, weighing him down into the mattress, but that was about as much as a relief as a blanket right now.

“Bokuto.”

He squirmed, and Daichi rolled his hips again, wringing nothing but a nasty scoff and a whine from Bokuto’s throat. He bucked his hips up. His hands were fisted at his sides, digging into anything he could reach. Daichi called his name again, his nose bumping into the gland in his neck. A croon filled his ear, and the knot in Bokuto’s chest tugged, trying to unravel under the feeling of something that just wasn’t _clicking._

“Tell me what you need. Please?” A kiss was sucked into his neck, just under his gland. Bokuto wasn’t sure when his hand had moved to his hair, but against every tug, trying to get him _closer_ , to pull him exactly where he wanted him, Daichi remained firm. “Come on,” he crooned, “please, omega?”

His throat ached. Felt like he was gonna cry. Electric pressure was prickling the bridge of his nose, and his chin was beginning to wobble. “ _Wrong_ ,” is the word he choked out, “it’s all _wrong."_

Daichi licked over Bokuto’s neck gland, and Bokuto snapped his head to the side, clenching his eyes shut. “Because I’m an omega?”

_Yes._ “No.”

His hips jerked up. “I- _Inside._ Need it inside. Please, _please, please,_ knot me.”

-

“Shit. Shit, _shit._ I forgot to clean it. Can you wait a few minutes while I go—?“

_“No!”_

Daichi hissed another curse through his teeth. Bokuto’s hand kept around his wrist, trying to pull him closer when there was no space between them.

“Don’t leave. S’mura.”

He sounded like he was going to cry. Fuck. _Fuck._ “Okay,” he grunted, working his hand faster through the promise of a hand cramp. “Soon. After we’re done I’ll make sure to go wash it. And then I’ll fuck you with it however you like. You’ll feel so good you won’t know what to do with yourself, Koutarou. You’d like that, right? Want me to fuck you with my knot?”

_“Omega,”_ Bokuto sobbed. His hands were fisted at his head, gasping into the article of clothing under his mouth. Another choked out _please_ before he tensed. A tiny dribble of come spurted out from his cock, pooling against his skin.

He’d have to wrangle Bokuto into the shower soon. Later, he ultimately decided. He gathered a warm, wet washcloth to help spot clean the omega.

Bokuto tilted his head to the side, letting Daichi wipe away dried spit and oil that he would no doubt complain about later. He giggled as Daichi cleaned his ear, swatting at him.

“That was different.”

He was mostly talking aloud, letting the soft tone fill the air, but Bokuto hummed. He was pliant in a way Daichi had never seen him before. “Peak. Gets worse halfway through. Earlier was okay, now I just…”

Daichi prodded his shoulder. “What?”

He shook his head, turning to busy his face in his arms. “‘s embarrassing.” He must have felt Daichi’s eyes on the back of his neck, because he peeked out to see him. “What?”

“So the legendary Bokuto Koutarou _can_ get embarrassed.”

“You think I’m legendary?” he asked, batting his eyelashes. “Of course you do! Everyone does. They can’t help it.” He settled back in with a self-satisfied grin. He held it for just a seconds before his eye cracked open again. “ _Stooop_ lookin’ at me!” he cried out. He groped for the rag in Daichi’s hand before flinging it out of the nest. It probably ended up somewhere near his book — something he hadn’t seen since Bokuto tackled him into the nest in the first place. He pulled the other omega down into him, cuddling farther into the blankets with a huff. “I just wanna get dicked now. It’s awful.”

Daichi made a soft sound, considering. “If you let me up, I can go sanitize the dick and make sure it’s ready to go for next time.”

With a snort, Bokuto wiggling, shaking Daichi back and forth. Then, with a groan that sounded like it physically pained him, Bokuto let him go.

“I’ll be fast,” he promised, pressing a kiss into his temple. He climbed out of the nest, snagging the dildo’s bag on his way down the hall to the kitchen.

It didn’t take very long to complete his task, but when he returned, Bokuto clung to him like he’d been gone half a day. He dragged him back into the nest, the toy long forgotten, but probably not for long.

Bokuto did a lot of wiggling to get comfortable, Daichi was realizing. He had to try every angle until he found one that was _just_ right. Or maybe he just couldn’t help but fidget. Needless to say, when Bokuto grumbled a curse, his hips jolting up from the bed, Daich wasn’t entirely surprised.

“What?” he asked, lifting himself up onto his elbow.

Bokuto dug under his back until he yanked out a pair of nice gray slacks with an unfortunate stain slicking up the outer side of one thigh. “The zipper was stabbing me,” he explained, pinching the button between his thumb and forefinger.

“Slacks seem like very impractical nesting material,” Daichi commented.

“Right! Bro, that’s what I’ve been saying! Suga just doesn’t listen,” Bokuto huffed, thumbing the material above his head. One of the legs fell into his face, and he batted it away, spluttering. “Last time he gave me a jean jacket.”

That startled a laugh out of him. He almost fell back with how his shoulders shook. “I think Suga may be trying to tell you something.”

Bokuto folded them messily and stuffed them under his head for a pillow. “He usually just takes off whatever he was wearing when I go ask for something,” he explained.

“Did you go to ask him at work?” Daichi asked, reaching over. Bokuto felt the material shift under his ear as Daichi poked the fabric.

“ _No_ ,” he pouted. “I went to go ask him early in the morning because I was hoping he would have his pajamas on.” He melted into the sheets, a sour twist to his mouth. “But he was all ready for work! He gave me his pants and made me leave.”

“How inconsiderate of him.”

He jolted up, face open with a fit of righteous fury. “That’s what I said!”

Daichi laughed, setting back down with a contented sigh. “Maybe give him a heads up next time. I’m sure he’d appreciate the notice.”

“Eh,” Bokuto waved him off, “then I don’t get to see the look on his face.”

“You’re trouble,” Daichi muttered, just this side of sleep.

-

“Can I ask something totally TMI? You can say no.”

“You just had your mouth on me,” Bokuto said, incredulous. Daichi shrugged. “Go ahead.” He felt like some kind of royalty, waving Daichi along like that, not even looking at him.

“Have you ever been Ordered by an alpha?”

Bokuto turned over, intent to look at him, but ended up staring unblinkingly over his shoulder. “On purpose?”

“Yeah.”

He pulled him forward so Bokuto was fitted in the crook of his neck, their legs tangled together. “I take suppressants, and I don’t have heat, but… When alpha really gets keyed up…”

Alpha, Bokuto noted. A thin separation between Kuroo and Alpha, Pack and _mate._ Like Kuroo was the tasty sweets on the highest shelf. Within sights but too far out of reach.

Bokuto heard Daichi’s throat click as he swallowed, could feel his throat working against his ear. He’d trailed off, probably lost in whatever memory they’d made behind their bedroom doors.

_Here,_ the quiet realization hissed. _Right here._ Alpha had taken Daichi against these sheets. Claimed. Owned, _taken._

A breathy sigh fluttered from his mouth. He clenched around the knot, whining because it wasn’t enough. Even stuffed full, he felt so horribly _empty._

“I can’t describe it. The first time it happened it knocked me on my ass.”

The laugh was choked out, even to Bokuto’s poor ears. “You let him boss you around like that?”

“Sometimes,” he agreed. “It’s not so bad. He’s even made me come untouched a few times with it.”

Bokuto made a low, broken sound. Just the thought of that, the general mental image almost made Bokuto lose it. “Need it. Daichi, help me—.”

-

He didn’t really… remember the next few days. He could remember the pressure building. It was a thorny, itchy thing that took up presence in his chest without permit. It was achingly familiar, the most recognizable thing he could even _find_ about this heat. It was so outside of the realm of what he’d considered normal, it was almost like he’d slipped into another person’s body and took their heats for himself.

The extra soreness of his body told of the blank spots. First practice back would be _awful_ this time around.

Daichi’s phone, plugged up and resting on the nightstand, told him the date. Six whole days since he showed up at their door. Daichi held him, took care of him for almost a week straight with no help at all.

He was probably overthinking the affection and gratitude at the realization. Omegas’ whole _brand_ was love and care, right?

Well, Bokuto was an omega, too, and he couldn’t even imagine going through the ringer like this. Maybe for Daichi, when he decided to let his heats out. Bokuto could see helping him through. Not that he would be needed, of course. Kuroo would be perfectly fine getting him through it on his own.

_Eugh._ The prickly feeling constricted in his chest at the very mention of the alpha. This was familiar territory, a well practiced move he’d all but perfect through the years. He could do this. He was Bokuto Koutarou, and he could shoulder through anything!

After, of course, a well deserved nap. These past few days had been an awful lot, after all.

-

He wasn’t sure how he knew that this was the last time. Maybe in how the desperation bled from his bones early that morning before Daichi had even woken up. Or how when he pulled the other omega closer, it had nothing to do with the coil in his gut, and everything to do with the fact that if Daichi pulled too far away, their bubble would pop.

Here, it was like they were stuffed in their own corner of the universe. Nothing was complicated. Bokuto could chase what he wanted and blame the heat later. Here, he could play pretend.

The bubble had to pop eventually, he knew it did. Bokuto had to get back to his team, Daichi had lectures to attend. A mate to come home to.

Rather, he had a mate to come home to him. Koutarou was, after all, only a temporary fixture in their home. In their bed.

This was just temporary. The last time he would ever have Daichi in this way.

He shoved his nose into Kuroo’s pillow and tried not to let the tears spill over.

_“Hey,”_ Daichi soothed. His hand was tripping up along Bokuto’s side. His thumb swept over his ribs, and Bokuto couldn’t stop his shoulders from shaking. “I’ve got you, Kou, you’re alright.” A kiss between his shoulder blades. The feeling of being so wonderfully _full._ So good, _so good, but not enough._ The scent of _alpha_ was stale in the bedroom, clinging on the last vestiges of effort. On the very top of Bokuto’s tongue, but never strong enough to grasp, to call, to invoke.

The peace he had built came tearing down shred by shred.

Daichi held him as he shook through it. His teeth tore into the pillow, spit smeared along his chin and cheeks as he sobbed out his release. Finally, he sagged into the mattress, curling his fingers into the bedsheets at his sides.

Koutarou was left to reach for the bubble, knowing it would pop at the very first touch.

-

When he came back to himself enough to walk, Daichi guided him into the bathroom. He filled the tub, and let the rushing water be the only sound between them.

Bokuto felt that if he breathed wrong he would choke on the tension. He couldn’t even muster up a joke to ease it.

He sat on the rim of the tub, naked except for the towel Daichi wrapped around his shoulders. He could hear the buzzing of the light above them, and the droplets falling from the closed tap seemed so _loud._ The grain of the towel against his skin was like twine digging into sensitive flesh, especially around the abused skin of his neck. His scent gland throbbed, swollen and bruised. The skin remained unbroken.

“Kou,” someone murmured. There were hands resting on the outside of his thighs, and a body kneeling at his feet. “Can I get you anything? What do you need?”

“Can I—?” His throat was so sore, his voice cracked with the abuse he’d been putting it under. “I need to take a bath.” The volume dropped lower, not willing to add to the _noise._

They hummed, and couldn’t they please be quiet? Didn’t they know the tiles liked to gather the sound up and lob it back at them? “Would you like me to leave? Give you some space?”

At Bokuto’s nod, the body left him. The sound of the door shutting grated on his ears.

Alone. He was alone. There wasn’t much of a smell to the bathroom, just the noise, and the light, and the sandpaper against his skin. His body ached, his neck throbbed with every pulse, a constant reminder.

_Too loud, too much, not enough._

The emptiness in the pit of his stomach felt like a pitfall, gaping and snapping at his heels. Nothing. There was nothing. No mark, no baby, just the ache, and the tears, and the _pain._

His fingers dug into his arms as he hunched over, barely keeping his balance before he tipped head-first to the floor.

His fault. The only scent stuck in his nose was the sickly sweet heat and an alpha long gone. He tumbled to the floor. The cold was oppressive, but he welcomed it. It was a salve to his overheated skin, a ledge for him to cling to.

Bokuto’s back was to the door. He felt the knock against it more than he heard it. Stuffy, everything was so stuffy, his nose, his _head, his ears._ The drip, _drip, drip,_ never fucking _stopped—_

_“Bokuto!”_ Someone at the door. Shouting louder than the droplets, bouncing off the tile. The door wouldn’t open under his weight. He didn’t want them to come in. “Can you open the door?” No. No, he didn’t want the door open. The scent was so thick there. Two omega, not enough, too much.

“Okay,” they said, quieter. A sound, and a jostle of the door. It was still. Bokuto didn’t dare breathe as he listened. “I’m not leaving,” they told him.

_Good,_ his mind preened at the very same time another, deeper part of him cried.

“I’ll be here when you want to open the door. Can you breathe with me?”

He heard the exaggerated breaths and matched them, taking in slow breaths, holding, and then releasing just as measured. It was something to slip into. Akaashi did this with him sometimes. Sometimes he did it with Akaashi. He let his eyes drift shut, focusing on the breaths beyond the door, in the bone-deep tiredness that steeped through his entire body.

When he woke up, there would be things to deal with. When he woke up, his mind would be clear. If anyone told him, Suga would be pounding at the door, demanding to be let in so he could help. The beta would have the apartment smelling _normal._ He would let Bokuto _breathe._

Bokuto shut his eyes against the light, and the sound, and focused on breathing. On the sound behind the door, and the body heat he was sure he was imagining from beyond.

-

He still felt tired. Tired, and stiff. Like every bone in his body had been pulled out and dried thoroughly before being shoved back in, brittle but stubborn.

He scrubbed the scum away from his eyes and shook in a deep breath. The bathroom looked the same as ever. That was the counter Daichi had backed him up against, the one he’d sat on as Daichi took care of him. The tub was the very same one from his stay here. The one he’d curled under hot water in, with Daichi against his chest.

Bokuto was never going to be able to come into this bathroom again. He was going to be doomed to a life of holding his bladder when he had to pee here for the rest of his life.

Oh, he wished they would move apartments soon.

With a deep breath, he pulled himself to his feet. He dragged the towel off of his shoulders, and unplugged the tub. He stared unseeing as the cold water swirled down the drain.

The first few hours after a broken heat were always the worst.

By the time he had cleaned himself up with a hurried, lukewarm shower, it had begun to set in. At least the stiffness in his bones would have something to keep it company as the embarrassment settled in right alongside them.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and debated how much longer he could hide out in here. The smell of distress was thick in the air, but he was too exhausted for it to do anything but weigh his shoulders down. The apartment beyond, with any luck, would be clean and vented, any and all signs of the last week wiped clean so Bokuto could start afresh.

So they could put this behind them, and Bokuto could go back to locking himself in his bedroom like normal.

He hoped that Daichi wouldn’t ask again. It was too much. Like the promise of a gift only to be screwed over in the very end. He didn’t know if he could take another heat like this, impeding on a marriage bed he had no place in.

When he pressed his ear to the door, there was no movement to be heard.

Whatever he thought was waiting for him on the other side, he wasn’t expecting Daichi to come tumbling back with him. There was a shout and a curse, and then they were staring at each other. Bokuto sucked in a breath through his teeth, but didn’t dare to scent the air. Daichi pulled himself up to sit, his mouth working through silent words.

“Are you alright?” is what he finally settled on. Like _Bokuto_ was the one who just for a door yanked from under him.

Bokuto scrubbed at the back of his neck, looking anywhere but the other omega. He made an odd gesture between them. The position they were in made something in his chest crumble. He wished more than anything Daichi wouldn’t look up at him like that. “You didn’t have to stay on the floor, gosh, come on.”

“I told you I wasn’t leaving.”

The intensity in his eyes is what drove Bokuto to look away. He offered a hand and pulled Daichi up so that they stood eye to eye. “I’m sorry about everything.”

Daichi frowned at him. “You don’t have to apologize for—!” His indignant speech was cut off as Bokuto slammed into him, arms so tight around Daichi he was sure that he would never be able to let go. That wouldn’t matter much in the end, he figured, when Daichi held him back just as tight. His nose was buried in Bokuto’s neck.

Bokuto pressed his cheek into Daichi’s shoulder and shuddered out a sigh.

He was in trouble. It was everywhere, spelled in the way Daichi’s hand traced comforting circles into his back. Trouble in the way that the thought of leaving the stuffy room was physically painful.

Trouble in the way the thought _I love him_ wasn’t a surprise at all.

**Author's Note:**

> my thought while dreaming this up like three months ago: bo has his first mental 'ily' to daichi after a heat . that's it that's the fic!
> 
> and then this happened.
> 
> tell me the parts you liked!! and the ones you didn't >:) [you can also bully me on twitter](https://twitter.com/bardicyearning)  
> don't forget to sub to the series !


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